Lonely In Gorgeous
by Avery Steele
Summary: It's ten years after George has left, and Yukari's career is slowing down. With no jobs lined up for her, she begins reminiscing about the 'good ol' days'. After a while, Yukari suddenly gets a bright idea.. Note; Isabella is referred to as a she mostly
1. Chapter 1

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Yukari looked at her closet and smiled at the clothing that hung limply on the hangers. The beauty of George's work enveloped her, the memories, the long nights together and the glorious days. She closed the door shut on all of George's clothing, filled with unconditional love, something Yukari could never say he felt for her.

It was years since he had left for France, and while he was making flashy costumes and gorgeous ready-to-wear, she was in Japan, blazing a fiery trail in modeling history. She rose to the top surprisingly quick, with the help of Treetop, her modeling agency, and constant support from Happy Berry's Mikako and her little sister, Miwako.

Hiroyuki and her were now married. She gazed at the glittering ring, a beautiful silver band with a butterfly-shaped jewel set into it. She smiled and glanced over to the phone that was set on a desk beside the closet. She hadn't had a call from Kozue, her agent, for _ages, _but that was to be expected. She was 28, nearly 29, much too old to expect to continue steady jobs from her agency. Yukari signed and walked over to the sofa, collapsing onto the soft sofa in the middle of their living room, crossing her legs.

Littered across the walls of the room were numerous pictures of her. Snapshots, poses, scenes from various movies she had been in. She was way past her prime, but she still got the odd job now and then. It depressed Yukari, getting old.

It wasn't as if she was going to go into bankruptcy. No, she was quite well off. She could probably afford to retire right then and there, but she loved her work. As she grew older, less work came, and her dreams of going overseas as a model turned into a simple pipe dream. Still, during the ten years in which she had a steady job, she learned many new things, experienced new places and many opportunities revealed themselves to her. Those experiences were her most valuable assets, and she would hold them close to her heart, looking fondly back at them.

Yukari focused on one picture in particular – her first modeling job with her friends at YazaGaku. She still remembered everything that had happened that day – all her feelings. The feeling of contentment at not falling flat on her face. Sadness for only winning runner-up. Extreme love for George as she held his hand, waiting for her turn to walk the runway..

She had to admit, somewhere in her heart, she still loved that George Koizumi as much as when they were together. Hiroyuki understood that, and Yukari understood that Hiroyuki would be forever jealous of Arashi for stealing Miwako away from him. It was mutual understanding that came with the deep and fulfilling love that they shared, much greater than the selfish, lustful love that she felt for George.

Still, for their honeymoon, when they went to see the Broadway comedy in America – Yukari cried as she sat there, sitting in George's clothing as she watched his artfully made costumes come to life on the stage before her. Tears were brought to her eyes as she remembered the very night..

The curtain swept closed on the actors and actresses as they bowed deeply to the cheering crowd before them. Yukari and Hiroyuki sat stunned in front row seats as the sound of clapping was drowned out by their own racing thoughts. Tears were streaming down Yukari's face as she watched the lights slowly turn to the center of the stage.

"And now, the genius behind the beautiful costumes shown here tonight – George Koizumi!" the announcer said, and George himself walked onto the stage, presenting himself in a dazzling black suit with accentuating off-white pinstripes. His hair was still blue, and he looked exactly like he did when he left. Underneath the jacket was a white shirt, and perhaps Yukari may have just been imagining it, but she thought she had seen a tiny butterfly earring in his left ear.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm perfect, I know, I have to live with myself every day, I don't need reminding!" he said blatantly, flashing his perfect white teeth to the crowd. The audience laughed. They were amused by his ego?

George then produced a single blue rose from behind his back. He grinned and looked straight at Yukari. He walked right up to the edge of the stage and reached out to hand Yukari the rose. Yukari's fingers closed around it hesitantly, looking at Hiroyuki first for approval. He nodded, and Yukari accepted the blue rose.

"Don't ever think I've forgotten you, Caroline." he had whispered into her ear, and for the first time, Yukari wanted to run off with him, leave Hiroyuki by himself in that theater, just to be with George for a little longer..

His words rang in her mind as she sat there, replaying the scene in her head. She reminded herself that the feelings that rose up in her were nothing. She knew she loved Hiroyuki more than she loved George, but he was new. Fresh. That was all she felt for him. She still refused to run off with George, and that was the right thing to do. She stayed with her husband, who loved her more than anything in the world, much more than his work as a doctor, more than his patients. George had always put his work first, his clothes, his patterns. His dreams. Yukari knew that their relationship could never last for more than a week or two, whilst Yukari and Hiroyuki – there was no doubt that they would be together until the end of their lives.

Paradise Kiss.

Those two words had sparked a new being in Yukari, and she felt something rise in her. She ran to her drawer and found the envelope in which the two tickets to the show had come. She copied the address down on a slip of paper and grabbed a piece of letter paper, writing a letter to the address.

'To; George Koizumi.

You are cordially invited to the Paradise Kiss reunion this September 13th!

I hope you can attend.

From; Yukari Tokumori

P.S. If Isabella's still with you, invite her too.'

Yukari's hands shook terribly as she hastily shoved the letter into an envelope, and copying down the address onto the front of it. She grabbed a stamp from the top of a nearby drawer, peeled it off of the sheet, licked the back and gently placed it onto the corner.

She could hear their apartment door being opened, and she rushed to the door to meet her husband as he came in from a long day at his ward. Hiroyuki had succeeded in becoming a psychiatrist for Miwako's sake, and had already helped her a great deal. She loved the determination in him, that feeling that caused both of them to succeed in their endeavours.

"I'm home!" he called as Yukari rushed up to him.

"Ah - welcome home! You're early!" Yukari gushed, pulling him into an embrace and giving him a tiny kiss on the cheek. Once Yukari had let him go, he put his suitcase down and took his suit jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack.

"We had one patient skip out on their session, so I got to leave earlier than anticipated." sighed Hiroyuki, running a hand through his hair. Yukari smiled at his expression of worry. He had so much passion for his work, and was always displeased when a patient did not show up.

"Well, that's a nice change! Guess what? I just had an idea! Try and guess, come on. I'll make a special dinner tonight if you guess correctly!" announced Yukari, tapping him lightly on the nose. He made a mock face of disgust.

"Your cooking is so bad I don't even want to know what kind of strange meal you'd come up with. Leek and seaweed soup? Teriyaki Sweet potatoes?" teased Hiroyuki, walking over to their living room couch and sitting down. "I have no idea, now tell me." Yukari sat down beside him and showed him the letter.

"I'm going to organize a Paradise Kiss reunion! I'll invite everyone! Miwako, Arashi, Isabella & George! We can invite Mikako and Kozue too! Alice and Erica and.." Yukari started, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Paradise Kiss? Was that the name of their old clothing designing group..thing?" asked Hiroyuki, feeling awkward. Yukari realized that he had never actually met Isabella or George, and only knew from glances at pictures and seeing them on the street.

"Yeah. I know that George never sold the Para Kiss studio, so we can hold it there. All of us still have some of Para Kiss' clothes, especially Miwako & I, since we haven't grown at all." stated Yukari, putting the letter back on the table.

"Well, don't you think we should just invite Para Kiss for the event, instead of Mikako and the rest? It should be a small, private reunion. I don't think even _I _should go." admitted Hiroyuki, running his hand through his hair again. His wedding ring reflected in the sunlight that came in through the apartment window. It was just a plain silver wedding band. Yukari asked him if he wanted something flashier, but he refused bluntly, saying that a doctor should not have anything 'large or fancy'.

"Oh. That's true. You don't mind not going?" asked Yukari, though both of them knew she was really asking if it was okay for her and George to be together again without him present. Hiroyuki nodded and sighed.

"I trust you to host a wonderful party, Yukari."


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Caroline,_

_Of course I'll attend the reunion. Both Isabella and I will be glad to attend._

_(Isabella's just ecstatic. She's making new patterns for a dress just for the occasion.)_

_I assume that you will be inviting all of the Para Kiss Crew? I look forward to seeing them all. I hear Miwako has had a child. I also hear that the child looks more like Arashi than Miwako – how unfortunate. Still, I can't wait to see them both._

_I can't wait to see you, Caroline._

_George Koizumi._

It had been two weeks since she had recieved the confirmation from George, and she spent those two weeks decorating the old atelier for a party. She had left the sewing machines out on one of the tables for a touch of nostalgia, and had placed some flowers on the tabletop where Isabella had often prepared meals. She had ordered a cake along with a banquet fit for the king himself.

_George will probably think it's not good enough for him, _thought Yukari bitterly, as she stood in the studio, an hour before anyone was to arrive, dressed in the dress that George had made for the Yaza Arts show. The first one she had ever modelled.

She had to admit she felt extremely glamourous, like the female lead in one of those popular dramas on the television. With the elegant transparent gloves and the glorious blue fabric, she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb, yet felt strangely at ease around the many mannequins littered around the abandoned room.

She sat on the couch and let the folds of the skirt cover the couch. She felt like she was on a set of a soap opera all over again. She had starred in one a few years ago. It was fairly popular, but it was never meant to be a long series by any means. She waited for ages, just sitting there, remembering everything that had happened in that cramped little basement apartment.

After a while, she heard a key turn and the door open. She had forgotten that all of ParaKiss had keys to the studio. She rushed to the doorway as the door slid open. Her dress swished at her ankles, and she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Arashi and Miwako standing in the doorway. Miwako was in a cute little pink skirt with ruffles around the collar and a lace bow. Arashi was in a pinstriped suit and a violet shirt underneath. Yukari smiled. They hadn't changed at all.

"Caroline!" screamed Miwako, flinging her arms around Yukari, "You're wearing our dress!"

"Ah – Miwako! You'll rip the dress! Oh, it's good to see you too." gushed Yukari, hugging Miwako tightly before letting go. She dropped to the floor and Arashi stepped into the studio, looking around at the food, the cake, the decorations.

"Why didn't you put the goddamn sewing machines away? Jeez, Yukari. This place looks just like when we left!" complained Arashi, half-joking as he meandered across the room, "Hey, wasn't this the mannequin we used for that dress?"

"How should I know?" said Yukari, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Arashi.

They moved across the room to the countertop, sitting themselves on the barstools that had stood there. Before Yukari had spruced the place up, there was a layer of dust an inch thick lying on the seats. Obviously, George had no intention of using the place at all, he just wanted to keep it.

Just as they sat down, they could hear a key enter the lock, and Yukari snapped her head around to look at the door. It had to be George and Isabella. George. She mentally prepared herself.

"Oh, Yukari, this place is wonderful! It's just like new!" shouted Isabella, her eyes welling up as she entered the studio. Alone. She was wearing a beautiful kimono that she had probably made herself, and she was wearing traditional makeup. Her hair was held back in a loose bun with a pair of chopsticks. Yukari jumped up and ran towards her, pulling her into an embrace. Yukari, for the first time in ages, felt quite short in comparason to Isabella's large figure, but then again, Isabella was_ truly_ a man, so she it made sense for her to be taller, genetically speaking.

"Isabella, I'm so glad you came, you look beautiful tonight, but weren't you coming with George?" asked Yukari, squeezing her fondly. She had missed Isabella very much during the time she was in Europe with George. She moved around so much that Isabella, like George, was uncontactable.

"Oh, he had to run a few errands in Nippori. He hasn't been to Japan in _years, _so I guess he probably wants to visit the specialty fabric shop there – the one we used to always use for the ParaKiss items." explained Isabella as she and Yukari parted. Yukari led her over to the counter, and Isabella sat down quite gracefully.

"I knew that wanker would bail out!" exclaimed Arashi, annoyed.

"You really want to see him, don't you, Arashi?" teased Yukari, laughing.

"No, I want to beat him to a pulp because I haven't been able to for ten years!" he retorted angrily. Miwako looked quite worried and scandalized at the thought, and she turned to Yukari with her eyes welled up.

"Ah – Miwako! Don't cry! Arashi doesn't mean it, right Arashi?" said Yukari, glaring at him.

"No, of course I mean it! That annoying bugger of a man hasn't been here for ten years and I can't wait to see his ugly face again!" growled Arashi.

"So you _do _miss him!" teased Isabella, chuckling.

"Grr..I'd hit you if you weren't a woman, Isabella." Arashi said.

"Enough! This is supposed to be a _happy _reunion. There will be _no _violence." said Yukari.

"You're only saying that because you're in love with George!" yelled Arashi. Everyone stopped in their tracks, and time itself seemed to stop. Yukari was stunned. _Was she still in love with George or not?_ Her eyes widened.

"No – Yukari! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that! Forget about it, I never said a thing! I'm sorry, I won't kill George no matter how much of a prick he is." Arashi apologized, getting up in his chair and grabbing Yukari by the shoulders. Yukari brushed him off and looked up at him.

"It's okay, I'm fine. I just want this night to be perfect. Paradise Kiss hasn't seen all of its' members for ten whole years. I want this to be a night to remember." said Yukari, a sad smile on her face.

Suddenly, they all heard a key turn in the lock, and the door swung open. It was as if time had completely slowed down. Yukari hesitantly turned towards the doorway. Miwako jumped up. Arashi turned around quickly. Isabella fixed her hair with in a compact that she had pulled out of her pocket.

First came his face. His hair was still the same bright blue. His eyes, those cold marble eyes, they were bright and warm that night. He was wearing the same suit as when he appeared on stage at the Broadway Musical. That suit, black with off-white accentuating pinstripes, it stuck in her mind like flypaper. In his left hand, was a single blue rose.

He swept across the room, a tiny small on his face, going straight to the stunned Yukari, handing her the rose, using his right hand, he took her hand and gave it a tiny peck. He leaned closer and whispered into her ear, so quiet that no one else could hear.

"Honey, I'm home."


	3. Chapter 3

_Smack._

"I'm a married woman now, George, as you very well know." said Yukari, her eyes expressionless as she handed George back the rose. He took it and put it in the inside of his coat jacket, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Fine, then, but I remember what you did at that musical. I think about you every day." he replied in a normal tone this time. Yukari slapped him a second time, and he just smiled and put his hand up to the place where her gloved hand had hit him.

"Anyways, let's get this party started. Come on, to the table!" announced Yukari, leading them over to the long table where she had prepared all the food. There were several different bottles of wine and champagne. Arashi picked up a bottle of Dom Perignon and sneered.

"All you have is this high-end shit." complained Arashi, putting the bottle down and pulling out his chair. Yukari glared at him, bent over and pulled a large box from under the table – it was a case of American beer. Arashi's eyes lit up as she tossed him one. He opened it seconds after catching it, taking a long swig.

"Alright! Now _this _is the good stuff, my friends!" yelled Arashi, beginning to look around at the food that was placed before him.

"Well, I knew you'd complain about it all being wine, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep a case of beer under the table." explained Yukari, picking up the bottle that Arashi had rejected, uncorking it and pouring it into her glass. She took a sip, then put it down. She had better drink slowly, since she wasn't a very good drunk.

"I looooooooooooooooooooove you, Carooooolineee...." burped Arashi. Miwako and Isabella both giggled, Yukari glared at him, and George looked utterly disgusted.

"Please, you are with women, Arashi. Couldn't you be less vulgar?" said George.

"Okay, Miwako is my wife, Yukari is Hiro's wife, you are a sissy, and Isabella isn't even a real woman." said Arashi, glaring back at Yukari. They all gasped. Well, except for Arashi, of course. Isabella looked shocked, and had one hand over her gaping mouth. Yukari and Miwako both looked as if someone had run an electrical current through them, and George simply looked murderous.

"Are you sure there isn't room for one more dish on this course? I'm sure fried ARASHI would be good for washing down the rest." hissed George, his eyes glinting with murderous intent and rage.

"I doubt his meat would be good enough for that, George. Leave him alone. He's drunk. I guess he's a worse drunk than I am, and that's pretty hard to do." calmed Yukari, recovering from the initial shock of Arashi's statement, "Of course, we could still butcher him and feed him to a dog if you'd like, Isabella."

"No, no, that's quite alright, Carrie, but would you pass me some of that Dom Perignon you have there?" asked Isabella politely, smiling as Yukari passed the bottle over to her. She uncorked it and poured it into her wine glass before downing it in one gulp.

As the dinner progressed, they felt more and more as if it was the same as that fateful day when they celebrated Yukari's decision to become their model. To her, then, the studio had just been a little basement store removed from the main road, stuck amidst a maze of small streets. To reach it, one had to go down a flight of steps to a cute little door. Sweet exotic scents filled every corner, as if someone was making candies from a Chinese Import Store. Dizzying music bounced off the loud pink walls. There was an old bar and a pool table. There were three sewing machines.

It was like a tiny secret hideout.

They called it their studio.

"Carrriiiiolineeeeeee....can we stay here foreeeeveeeeeeerrrrr?" asked Arashi, half falling out of his chair, dead drunk. Thump. Nevermind about the 'half falling' part.

"Arashi! We should leave. You're going to be sick. I told you not to drink so much!" cried Miwako, pulling Arashi back into his seat. Arashi giggled and hiccuped, gazing up at Miwako lovingly. He tickled her chin above her, and she smiled.

"Aw, Miwako, do you _have _to go?" asked Yukari, pouting. Miwako was her best friend. They saw each other lots, since her and Arashi hadn't moved away yet, but they never seemed to see each other enough.

"Yeah, sorry Yukari. It's late, and Arashi's dead drunk. Erica will be wondering what happened to us. She doesn't like Tsutomu much. I tried to get sissy to do it, but she had to do some work with Happy Berry." said Miwako, an apologetic look on her face. "Come on, Arashi, we're going." She pulled Arashi up onto his feet and supported his weight as they shuffled to the door. Yukari was surprised that Miwako could support his weight, being so tiny, but she probably had practice.

"Bye!" called Isabella, George and Yukari after them, all three lifting their wine glasses to them, gesturing their way.

"Ah, I hope I see them soon. I don't get to see any of you enough anymore, and I'm not even busy most of the time." sighed Yukari, putting her glass down in front of her. She was fairly sober, since she hadn't had more than half a glass of wine. She was trying to make sure that she wouldn't get falling out of her chair drunk, like Arashi, so George wouldn't take a notion to carrying her home.

"Well, don't you miss Isabella and I?" asked George, taking a sip from his glass.

"I do, but you guys find yourselves thoroughly uncontactable." said Yukari sarcastically.

"Oh. Well, we're moving around so much that we can't be contacted. I was quite surprised when you managed to send us that invitation, Carrie." answered Isabella.

"Well, I figured the Broadway Musical you guys invited me to would be a bit of a clue, and I figured whoever was at that address could connect me to you both." replied Yukari, cutting out a piece of the magnificent cake she had bought for them. It was a gigantic mannequin cake with a long piece of measuring tape winding around it.

"Well, it's lucky that we were there." said Isabella, "We were about to leave for Paris right then. Oh – and excuse me, I believe I have to go to the ladies' room. I'll be back in a flash." Isabella got up and swept over to the washroom door, going in and leaving George and Yukari alone. Yukari may have just been imagining it, but she thought she had seen a mischievous glint in Isabella's eyes before she stepped into the washroom.

Yukari looked down at her hands, which were placed on her lap. Her heart was pounding. She wanted to avoid being alone with George as much as possible, but of course, it just had to happen anyway. She knew her feelings for him were still there, no matter how she tried to suppress them. How could she not, she had not seen him for ten years. She could not help that her heart had leaped with joy at the sight of George striding through the door. She could not help that he noticed.

"Yukari-" started George.

"If you're going to ask me to come away with you, than the answer is still no." Yukari said bluntly, glaring at him intensely. She did _not _intend on giving in to his charm and wit. George's eyes widened and he chuckled.

"I was just going to ask where you had purchased this delightful cake. It's beautiful, and I doubt that you could have made something like that on your own." replied George. Yukari blushed and looked down at her hands again. An awkward silence fell upon them, and they could hear flushing noises from the bathroom.

"Yukari, _do _you want to come away with me? Come along with us, abandon your husband. Feel a taste of freedom. Forget your modeling, you're slowing down already. You won't receive any jobs for a while. Come to Europe with me." George said, breaking the silence that had been so loud in her ears.

_Forget your modeling_

Yukari bit her lip. Her eyes looked everywhere, trying to avoid his gaze. At that moment in time, there were two people raging within her. One wanted her to jump out of her seat and follow him wherever he went, deserting her husband and the job she loved. The other one wanted to stay planted in that seat, looking him in the eyes as she told him she wouldn't go.

Just then, her cell phone rang. It was on the counter of the old bar, and she picked it up, flipping it open at once. The caller I.D. read 'Shimamoto-San'.

"Hello?" said Yukari uncertainly, giving George a sheepish look. He stared at her with the same intensity as before, seemingly examining her. Yukari wished he would stop.

"Yukari! How would you like to go to Paris!" said Shimamoto.

"Paris? Wow..For a job, you mean? That would be great. When?" asked Yukari, her eyes widening. George raised one brow at her, and she just glared at him, her certainty returning bit by bit.

"Now. Get over to the offices right now. Is this a bad time?"

"Well-"

"Actually, I really don't care if it's a bad time, get over here right now!"

"I – um – well.."

_Forget your modeling._

_Come away with me._

_Forget your husband._

_If you felt that sleeping with me was more important than becoming a model, you're a stupid, stupid girl._

"I'm coming right now. Actually, can you pick me up? I'm at a party at the old ParaKiss studio, and I've been drinking. I haven't drunk much, but I still shouldn't drive." she said into the phone. George's eyes finally moved away, looking down at the ground.

_"_Okay, I'll be right there." Click. Yukari closed her cell phone and turned to George.

"I just got a job, thank you very much. Tell Isabella where I've gone." Yukari said. Then she stopped. She ran to the washroom just as Isabella came out. Isabella let her rush in and lock the door behind her as she changed into the change of clothes she had previously prepared. She put the dress on a coat hanger that was already there and left the washroom.

"I'll be leaving now." she said to both George and Isabella. They both nodded sadly.

She heard a honk from outside. She opened the door, rushed up the tiny flight of stairs, went through the small gateway, and ran into Shimamoto's car. She collapsed into the passenger seat and looked at her still-gloved hands. She pulled both gloves off and stared at them. Splash. A tear fell onto the glossy transparent fabric. Another tear.

They didn't say anything for the whole ride. No questions, just silence. Shimamoto was good for that.


	4. Chapter 4

"Yukari, do you want to tell me what's wrong? If it's going to affect your preformance, I need to know." said Shimamoto, shifting in her plane seat. They were halfway to France already, and Yukari had just stared out the window ever since they had gotten out of the plane. She had called Hiro and told him about how she was going to Paris for a week for modeling. He had sounded a bit uncertain, but when Yukari promised to call him everyday, he calmed down. Yukari sat silently for a while before answering.

"It's George. The party I was at – it was a ParaKiss reunion. I had no idea it would be so hard to see him again. Why can't I just get over my feelings for him!" cried Yukari, glad that it was a private jet they were on and not a public plane, shared with the rest of the staff involved. Shimamoto sighed.

"Yukari, it's best just to try and forget about that no-good bastard. I'm sure he has slept with many different women, and probably has a girlfriend back in Europe. Or a boyfriend. Or both! He's just toying with your emotions, Yukari, that's just what he does. I've known him since he was a small child, and he's exactly like his father. Pay no attention to it. Just keep your head up high, and constantly remind yourself that you are in love with Tokumori and you have been all along." replied Shimamoto, massaging her temples tiredly. The realization of these facts had hurt Yukari. She had almost forgotten that it had been ten years in between their last meeting. Ten, whole, years.

"Kozue," said Yukari, "If it's as easy as you say, than why haven't I been able to do it, even after ten long years of trying to forget him." Him and his glassy blue eyes. That cold, glassy, stare she had hated so much. She ran a hand through her hair worriedly.

"The only thing I can think of is that you haven't been trying with your whole heart." said Shimamoto. Yukari slumped in her seat. She went through her memories of George. She remembered every single one. Shimamoto was right – she had never been trying with her whole heart. She still remembered all her encounters and experiences with startling accuracy when it came to George. She cursed herself for being so weak. She tried to remember everything she did with Hiro, but she couldn't. She could remember bits and pieces, but not the colourful details that were littered in her memories of George.

She gazed out the window, taking in the scenery below her. They were almost to their destination, and they'd be landing in just a little bit. It had been little over 14 hours since she had last seen George. Since he had asked her to come away with him.

_Damn, _thought Yukari, _he should know better than to plague me with these thoughts. I have a job to do, and he's responsible for my finding it. It was his fault I became a model, and he should accept the fact. 'Forget modeling', ha! Like I could ever throw my job away like that. He's a sick, twisted person who wants me to be an individual with my own thoughts and choices, yet he wants to mold and shape me into his ideal woman. He's just as stupid as I am, and he'd better deal with it, because I am going to get over him this very moment._

Even ranting to herself made her feel much better. She felt as if his grip on her heart was lighting, and she sighed. Her lips turned upwards into a tiny smile, and Shimamoto smiled along with her. She gazed intently out the window, ecstatic that she was finally realizing her dream of going overseas.

"Hurry!"

"You're on in five!"

"Get into that cocktail dress, quick!"

"Good luck!"

"Don't trip on the train!"

"Ah! - Don't rip the fabric! It's delicate!"

It was just the dress rehearsal for the show and the tension was running high. Yukari felt the pressure the most because she felt that being short, only standing at 5'8'', she should do her best to shine amongst the other taller, younger, models.

When she had first entered the dressing room, the models there sneered and laughed at her. 'Look at the cute little old woman over there!', they said. 'She's much too short to be a model, maybe she's an assistant!' She grinded her teeth and held her head up high. Those remarks just caused her to feel even more confident – she knew she _had _to be confident, else she would fail among the array of budding models.

So, when the time finally came, she showed her spirit as a small asian model, and did well. _I am the most beautiful woman in the world, _she thought to herself, over and over, remembering the first piece of advice that Shimamoto had ever given her. _I am the most beautiful woman in the world. _She repeated it to herself so many times that even she believed it.

She strutted her stuff, and walked down the runway, her pale face prominant in the bright spotlight. _I am a star. I am the most beautiful woman in the whole, wide, world. _She didn't trip, or fall, she just held her head up high as the other models gazed in awe, not knowing that someone so short or so old could do so well as a model. _That'll show them. _

Paris was something new for her. The sights, the sounds. Most of the people there did not speak her language, and if they did, it was terrible. She only understood the snide, malevolent comments that were obviously meant for her to hear. She just kept silent. She knew drama in the dressing room was not a good thing for a fashion show, and she wanted what was best for all of them.

Four days of rehearsal passed by, and they soon reached the day of the Grand Paris Runway Show. All the models were hyped for their final preformance, the grand finale. Yukari was sitting in her first dress as she waited eagerly to be called on. The announcer babbled in a language she didn't know, and she only knew that she was to strut when she heard her name – mispronounced, mind you.

She got up and walked out onto the runway. Her heart pounded in her chest like a caged animal, and time seemed to be going in slow motion. She stared straight ahead of herself, her head held high, her expression cool and nonchalant. One foot in front of the other, she placed each step perfectly. _I am the most beautiful woman in the world. _

She turned around at the end of the runway, and slinked back down to the end, gaining much applause from behind her. She heard many words thrown at her in many different languages that she did not understand – it didn't matter, though. They sounded encouraging, and she could hardly contain the smiles that were fighting to the surface.

Then, snap. Time came back into play. Yukari hurried into the dressing room, quickly changing into her next dress as fast as she could. This was the life on the runway, and god, she loved every minute of it!

She knew right then that she could have never left modeling for George. Still, she had a lingering feeling in her heart, like a hand tickling it. Stroking it. And she knew for sure whose hands they were. Those long, slender hands adorned with those all-too-familiar rings on each finger, and his subtle lingering scent..

(**A/N: **Wow, fourth chapter already. Well, not _already._ I sure have been taking my sweet time. Anyways, I've noticed that a lot of you aren't reviewing. REVIEW. I love reviews! I want reviews! I will give you a cookie for reviews! I want to know what's bad, what's good, why you didn't get past the first sentance! REVIEW.

Just so you guys know, THIS IS NOT THE END. I AM NOT DONE YET. I KNOW IT SOUNDS LIKE AN ENDING, BUT IT ISN'T. UNLESS I SUDDENLY CHANGE MY MIND. IF I DO, I'M SORRY. D8

Also, for future reference, Kozue is Shimamoto's first name, for those who did not know or did not remember.)


	5. Chapter 5

Yukari sighed a deep sigh of relief as she sat down after her last dress. She slowly pulled off the black cocktail dress she had been wearing, reveling in the fact that she could take her time. She could feel her thoughts echoed around the dressing room as everyone began to peel off the clothes they had begun to hate during the week. All except for Yukari, who loved the clothes. The unique designs, from ready-to-wear to ballroom gowns, they were all perfectly unique and different in their own right.

Still, Yukari couldn't wait to get into her own clothing, clothes with more of a lived-in feeling than those of the runway. She couldn't wait to go home and make Hiro a nice, filling dinner. She wanted to hold him in her arms and feel his warmth. She missed him so much, and she wanted to see him smile once again.

A nagging feeling tugged at her heart as she thought about Hiro. What about George? _What about him, _she thought. She and him, they were over. There was nothing to begin with. He had led her astray with his want and wickedness, and she was weak and lonely enough to give in. They loved each other in a lustful manner, and that was all. They had agreed to part ways ten years ago, so why did that accursed man have to pull her back into his life once again? He made sure that he was on her mind, subconsciously if not consciously. Even during the fashion show, she thought once or twice, _would George be proud of me?_

Why did she need to have his approving nod to feel accomplished? She sneered at the thought as she was climbing back into a more comfortable outfit consisting of a yellow tanktop and a pair of faded jeans. She quickly hurried into the washroom to remove her makeup, grabbed her purse and headed out of the dressing room, through a flight of stairs and out the backstage door. Outside was a huge crowd, and Yukari stood there, rooted to the spot at the sight of so many people. Shimamoto came rushing towards her.

"K-Kozue – why are there so many people here?!" hissed Yukari.

"It's the after party, silly. There are a few Japanese that might want to talk to you, so we have to stay for half an hour or so. Well, _you _have to stay right here. I need to go to the bathroom!" hissed Shimamoto in reply, giving Yukari a quick pat on the arm for support before tearing off to the ladies' room. Yukari gulped, dreading any questions.

Yukari scanned the crowded, looking for any Japanese that might be looking her way. There was a balding old Japanese business man, a foxlike, sleek-haired, young man in a suit that vaguely reminded Yukari of Hiro. A creepy-looking, middle aged man who looked as if he would like nothing more than to pull Yukari's pants down. Yukari cringed and forced her eyes away. Her heart stopped.

A flash of blue, coming towards her. A black suit with accentuating off-white pinstripes. Bright blue eyes, with hair to match. No. Her heart jumped back into her ribcage and began pounding like a gorilla in a wooden crate. Her ribs were threatening to break under the pressure of her rapid heart rate. She was taking all too many sharp breaths and she began to feel a twisting sensation inside of her. She was soon finding it hard to breathe. She began to black out and fall to the ground just as George reached her, grabbing her hand in a vain attempt to steady her limp body..

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Yukari's eyes fluttered open. _Where am I? _She saw the blank white walls and the cupboards across from her. She saw the white sheets and the complicated looking equipment around her. _A hospital, _Yukari thought. _I fainted. _She relaxed and started to close her eyes when she heard a voice from beside her.

"I gave you quite a fright, didn't I?"

George was sitting beside her, his voice light and airy, but his face sad and serious. Yukari stared at him, no expression on her face. _Strange, _she thought, _I don't feel weird around him. _A small frown graced her pale face.

"The nurse says you could check out of here as soon as you woke up. She was all nervous when she was helping prepare your bed. She had seen you in some of the international T.V. Ads you were in." continued George, his eyes examining her. Those cold glass marble eyes. The ones she hated so much. Couldn't he just stop it?

"Good for her." said Yukari bitterly, "Why are you here?"

"I wasn't ready say goodbye yet."

Yukari turned away. There was a window beside her bed. The sky was a clear blue. She watched the clouds float lazily across the sky as she felt George's hard gaze on the back of her head. She wondered if anyone had told Hiro about this incident. She wasn't supposed to go home until the day after, but she was itching to leave.

"Well? Are you going to say goodbye to me now, or not?" said Yukari, after five minutes of silence or so. She turned back towards him and sat up, throwing the covers off of her. She hadn't even been changed into a hospital gown – she was glad for that. She could imagine that George would make several perverted comments if she had to change out of one.

George stared at her. Yukari felt uncomfortable and put on the spot. She could have hit him if she was able to move. She stood there, in the middle of grabbing her purse, and George got up, taking her hand in his, pulling her towards him. He grabbed her and kissed her, full on the mouth.

Yukari froze. She felt the familiar warmth envelop her, that familar scent. The all-too-familiar sting of tears. _No!_ She brought her hands up between them, placed them on his chest, and _pushed_. George looked startled as he was pried away from her body. She met his eyes, locking with a fiery gaze. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and grabbed her purse.

"I don't want you anymore, George. I am a happily. Married. Woman!" she cried, running out of the room, tears pouring back onto her face as she rushed down the white hospital stairwells. She was glad she was wearing simple flip-flops instead of high-heeled shoes.

The sun tore at her eyes as she burst out of the front entrance of the hospital. She dropped down onto her knees and leaned against the side of the hospital, left to the doorway. The doors slid open, and George calmly walked past, ignoring her tears. He didn't look back. Not even once. Yukari felt something strangling her heart, and she wanted to call out to him. To feel his name on her tongue one, last time. She felt panic closing in on her heart.

"George!" she called, unable to stiffle the need to stop him. He stopped in his tracks, and turned around on one heel. He looked directly at her, and she saw a glistening tear make its' way down his cheeks. His beautiful blue eyes were filled with longing. Yukari felt taken aback.

She had been thinking all about herself this whole time. She just assumed he had another woman to go back to. She stood up, wiping her tears. She walked towards him, the strangling sensation lessening with every step.

"George, you must understand. I – I'm a married woman. I love Hiro. I loved him even longer than I have loved you. I'm sorry, but sacrifices must be made. I don't want to be the type of ugly woman that cheats on her husband. Please don't hate me for what I've decided." said Yukari, holding her right hand out to him. George wiped his tears away and gingerly shook her hand.

"I understand, but know that I'll always love you, Yukari, and clothes will never fill the void you have left. _Nothing will ever replace you._" And with that, he turned away from her, leaving her rooted to the spot, staring at his back. He walked over to his car – a Jaguar, the very same from when she had first taken a confused ride inside of it. She had been running with the blinders on, not knowing what she was getting herself into. Yukari smiled a sad smile as she rifled through her purse, pulling out her cell phone. She flipped it open and dialed Shimamoto's number.

"Kozue, come pick me up."


	6. Chapter 6

Yukari gulped as she stood in front of her brown apartment door. The last week had felt like a strange dream she couldn't wake up from, and being brought back home was like a cruel jolt to reality. For the past week she was a budding model again, full of youth and promise. Now, she was yet again an old asian model, below par. She ran a hand through her hair as she filed through her purse and found her key. She put the key in the lock and opened the door. A faint creak was heard as she stepped into the room, kicking off her shoes.

"Yukari?" It was Hiro. He looked rather distraught in a rather dashing tie that was looped through the collar of a pair of baby blue fleece pajamas. On one foot was one of his work shoes and the other was a pink fluffy bunny slipper. Yukari raised her eyebrows as she took in the image of her confused-looking husband.

"Yukari!" said Hiro with a relieved sigh as he wove his arms around her body, pulling her into a warm embrace. Yukari ran her hand through his messy, unkempt hair as he kissed her right then and there. After a moment, their lips parted and they made their way into the living room.

The living room looked exactly as she had left it, except for the fact that there were empty ramen containers littered everywhere and a layer of dust covered nearly every surface. The T.V. remote was on the floor, a stool was lying on the ground, and the pieces of a shattered vase were on a damp patch of carpet.

"Hiro! What happened here! Did an earthquake hit, or was it a tornado?!" shrieked Yukari, hurrying to pick up the shards of glass before anyone stepped on it. A piece slipped and she cut her finger. She sucked in some air and tied a tissue around it. A red stain blossomed on the tissue immediately, but she pressed on, determined to clean everything.

"Oh, I must have been so worried about you that I forgot to clean." said Hiro weakly, grabbing the ramen containers and bringing them to the garbage bin in the kitchen. Yukari followed, carrying the glass in a cloth tote she kept lying around.

"Why worry? It was only a _week,_ Hiro. You're hopeless by yourself, you know that, right?" sighed Yukari, running a hand through her hair tiredly. She grabbed a feather duster and began to try and clean the dust off of the T.V. screen.

"I was worried that you might find yourself a sexy French boyfriend and be whisked away on a motorcycle. Or something along the lines of that, anyways." he teased, hugging her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"_Puh-lease, _I could never leave you. I'd have the guilt of leaving a poor boy alone in his apartment forever. Plus, your future patients will never get to meet your wondrous self because you'd be too busy being torn apart by the fact that I left you." Yukari teased back, tickling him under the chin before pulling away from him so she could put the feather duster back onto the table.

"I'll make supper tonight, don't worry about a thing, you've been so worried." continued Yukari, grinning as she waltzed into the kitchen to prepare a bit of food. She did not care that she was a sub par model anymore, she just loved that she was with Hiro.

_And **that **is precisely why I didn't leave him for George._

Yukari glanced at the closet. _Alone again, _she thought as she lounged around in her sofa, awaiting a call from Shimamoto that would mean another job. Her phone had been painstakingly silent. She hoped she could still continue even a few mediocre jobs now and then. She hoped she would be just as beautiful in old age so that she could perhaps keep modeling for her whole life, even if the work wasn't regular. She sighed and peered into closet again. She smiled a sad smile.

It was three days after she had gotten back from Paris. The day after she had gotten back, she brought all the clothes George had made her and put them back into the warehouse she had first found them in. She missed the clothes a little, but she knew that leaving the clothes was the first step to leaving her feelings for George behind. She told Isabella where the warehouse was and copied the key for her so that she could see if she fit any of the clothing within. After all, she didn't want the clothes to go to waste, even if they were his.

Now, she wasted away, the scent of George's cologne forever gone from her closet. All except for a single dress, the dress they had all made together, Paradise Kiss and Yukari to gether. She would keep that dress as an exception, though she put in into a special compartment where she would not need to see it every day.

She heard a knock on the door and she got up, perplexed. _George?, _she thought for a moment. _No, that's absurd. Stop hoping and dreaming, Yukari, he's not the one you want. _Her heart skipped a beat all the same as she pulled open the door and was greeted by a grumpy-looking young man with an enveloppe in his hand. He handed it to her and shut the door of his own accord, grumbling under his breath. Yukari clutched the letter and raised her eyebrows, surprised.

She opened the white enveloppe and extracted a letter written on loud pink paper, the same colour of the Paradise Kiss studio walls. She smiled as she read each curling crimson letter, George's perfume fluttering up to her nose.

Yukari,

Thank you for making me realize that persuing you would lead to nothing but heartbreak and worry. After going back to my home in Paris, I seemed to have run into a charming young lady named Annette. We are now dating and I'm slowly leaving my feelings for you behind. I am glad that you and Hiro may share the same feeling that is in between Annette and I. I'm sure the love in between Annette and I will last, and I will invite you and your husband to our wedding when the date arrives.

Don't worry about me, Yukari, because I know you will. I am happy, you are happy, it's as simple as that. Don't let the simplicity of it get in the way of your happiness. Believe it and be joyful, because I will never forget Paradise.

George Koizumi.

Tears splashed onto the paper as she smiled. She folded the paper up and tossed it into a garbage can. George had finally found someone to be happy with. A feeling of freedom came upon her as she let the tears run down her cheeks. She hummed a joyous tune as she twirled through her living room like a young girl in love for the first time. It was quite the same feeling, really, except she was being released from love. Obliged to love him no more, she felt like a bird. She felt as if she could do anything! Soar, sing and swoop down from the heavens is what she would do, and nobody could ever stop her from realizing her dreams!

The sound of the phone ringing snapped her out of her reverie. She grabbed the phone and recognized it as Kozue's number her heart pounded as she pressed the 'talk' button and held the phone up to her ear.

"Yukari! We're being flooded by requests for you overseas! They want you in Paris! Milan! Rome! They even want you in America!" Shimamoto's voice cried across the phone, filled with a deep joy with a tinge of stress.

"What? Really?" gasped Yukari. Her heart stopped. She felt as if it was a dream all over again, just like when she had gotten the call in the middle of the Paradise Kiss studio, in that fancy little dress alongside George's nancy boy figure.

"Why else would I be calling you when all the lines have been tied up for days sending in requests for you! They're still sending in demands! They want _you, _Yukari! Are you ready for all your dreams to come true?" asked Shimamoto.

"YES!" yelled Yukari. She smiled as she hung up the phone. She knew Kozue would be over in just a few moments to pick her up. Her emotions were flooded with pure disbelief and wonder. It was as if everything was being controlled by a particularly kindly god. She prayed that it wouldn't stop. She knew she would do even better than before, now that she was freed of the chains from George's nonstop love. Now, she would fly down that runway with the grace of an angel, and all would behold her stunning presence.

And this time, she would insist upon bringing Hiro along for the ride.

End.

A/N: Well, how did you guys like it? Yes, that's the end. Yes, Yukari is **not **going to be whisked away on a motorcycle by our dear Gorgie-boy. If there are any questions you want to ask me, just PM me or leave a review and I'll reply ASAP. =D I hope you guys are satisfied with the end and I hope I didn't stretch this fic out for too long. ;___;

**R E V I E W !!!**


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